The Kids Are All Moribund
by MalignantUser
Summary: The crime of the century had not come to be known when the village of Konohagakure sacrificed its fourth Hokage and his heir in the name of blood, duty and a conditional destiny, but when the child came out looking pure. 50 captures of Naruto distortions.
1. Crime

**1.**

**Title:** Crime

**Character(s):** Naruto, Kyuubi, Minato

**Word Count: **789

**Summary:** Konohagakure's view on its fourth Hokage and what demon was birthed in his stead to lead.

**A/N:** First attempt at Naruto-verse drabbles. (Though I barely consider them drabbles due to the fact that they haven't developed into fleshed out fics.) These are out of order, few of fifty and the prompt was originally for icons, but I ran with them nonetheless.

* * *

The crime of the century had not come to be known when the village of Konohagakure sacrificed its fourth Hokage and his heir in the name of blood, duty and a conditional destiny, but when the child came out looking pure. 

Despite the marring, most complicated seal impacted and adamantly needed, gracing the infant's abdomen, and the marked cheeks, the wails of a "healthy" pre-destined ninja would have been welcomed into the gracefully contrite arms of faithful artisans. Naruto might have passed as an average kunoichi with exceptionally resourceful chakra. Yet many were held at bay from spitting at him or were silenced in remembrance and honor; his blond hair reminding them whose life was traded for his to bear the weighed burden of encompassing the strongest demon known to walk across their empires.

When asked, Kyuubi was said to have commanded eight overlords itself, each ranked in power and most easily recognized by the numbers of tails each held. Thousands of lesser demons flanked under each and these overloads were revered and their areas untouched. This was before the practices of seals created for human cages. This was the time that was revered for ages stretching on and estimated to have been, ironically, the most peaceful era for demons. Not many dared to attempt to overthrow the great powers that would oppose and surely silence ambitious ones and the lands were left free for many to roam the borders and lithely amble on towards plans to conquer another.

Later, through bloodlines, the tales were passed on. Elders were prone to lack their recollecting skills eventually and were then free to consult the scrolls, where ancient languages were passed down and translated for the newer generations to carry on the task of simply memorizing the horrors of malignant beasts.

So soon crossed factions pitied his fate. A confused audience bearing witness to a normal child birthed, which couldn't possibly fathom how the Yondaime's heir could be the immoral human retaining vault who might someday be overcome because he was just too weak. Who would harbor the power of the Nine-Tailed fox's wrath once more.

Young were spilt into a fraction where they couldn't fathom the thought of It walking amongst them and they having to converse with It as a trusted ally, well aware and easily taken in by the elder's words weaved into a spell, foretelling them of an damnation upon them.

His existance was a crime. He deserved to pay for being what was he was and had damn well better not swelter under the boisterous pressure because he was chosen and they had lost their leader because of him. Their precious future. The supposed man that was to lead them into the next era. The man that could crush their future because of who he was and how his endless stamina would never deplete against even their forces alone.

And if it weren't for the gracious markings on his fresh, velvety, baby-soft skin that could easily be skinned with flicks of metallic tools sliding down chilled wrists, and the precious seal on his flush stomach, he'd blend right in.

For looking so human, he was still a demon in disguise under his costume of flesh waiting to strike the moment all felt secure.

He'd destroyed a village when he sucked in a gasp of air in his lungs and proclaimed himself alive; had cursed Konohagakure's honor and birth line.

It was seen to that he was never informed he was once their awaited prince so It would not awaken and rule them. It would not be informed that It was their rightful king as It had and was fated to be again.

So Konohagakure pretended they could not hear the confused child's pleas for someone to just tell him what the fuck was going on as he got older, and eventually he stopped asking. He learned that whatever he had done, he deserved it and Konohagakure could never be happier.

Faintly it was wondered, when It was broken and struggling out from under the weight of their stares and Its duty dragged out from under the pile age of honor and blood, maybe It would be of some use under their command after all.

Such a lovely gift their hero had left them.


	2. Paradise Lost

**2.**

**Title: **Paradise Lost

**Character(s):** Iruka, Naruto

**Word Count: **422

**Summary:** Iruka's inclination towards young Naruto's nature

**A/N:** This was based on the early arc of Naruto, when all were fleeting genin.

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Iruka mused to himself when it neared closer to The End, that he was an oasis for Naruto-kun. He knew that every time Naruto-kun boomed "Iruka-sensei!", he knew it was because in the depths of Naruto-kun's subconscious, he acknowledged Iruka's presence as a paradise and he knew how much it would cost him to accept that Iruka was the only one who would even touch or brush by him without flinching anymore.

He found Naruto-kun evolving and getting more jaded as he was introduced to the reality of what Iruka had been vainly trying to keep veiled. Gradually, he came to know and ignore that those few years he had repeatedly failed Naruto--with the full consent of those unmentionable who were wary of having Naruto prowl around Konohagakure--in the exams to keep him at his side, he saw that he was stealthily isolating himself in a way to prepare for what he did have to endure.

Iruka absorbed how easy it was to rationalize how what he offered was more than enough for him. This respite that was bestowed upon Naruto-kun was something he would never fail to be unthankful for.

Iruka was a good person and good people were kind to others; not out of pity of course, because you were kind for the same sensible and plausible reason you could look past that this mere child had killed your family and persists--years after without a hint of shame or audacity to grace those ever expressive baby-blues--to smile at you and expect to be coddled.

Iruka was nice and therefore good because he had an extraordinary sense of self-preservation and was able to block things out easily. So the next time Naruto-kun would invade his class and sit all calm and peaceful like, he could block out the descending grey cloud in his head that whispered for him to leap over and force his thumbnails into the eyes of this squealing, harshly breathing, bane of a monster in the deceiving solidified state of a shadow of a child and watch as the membranes, ruptured vessels, clear liquid and coagulating blood tried to keep up with his train of thought.

But no, nice people didn't imagine that. Good people wouldn't listen to the inner shadows.

So Iruka-sensei taught and patiently paused for the squeals to intensify and berate him.


	3. Snake Eyes

**3.**

**Title:** Snake Eyes

**Character(s):** Sakura, Shikamaru, Chouji, Sasuke; slight mentionings: Kakashi, Itachi

**Word Count: **429

**Summary:** Sakura seeks a way to learn of the newly formed Hebi.

**A/N:** I, personally, like the minimal interaction between Shikamaru and co. Thinking of a prompt to suit Team 10.

* * *

Now, she resents that she is only able to keep track of Sasuke's whereabouts by overhearing wisps of fragmented sentences in the form of words, told in a melancholy tone. 

She lightly steps every two months on tree branches overhead the same clearing that takes shinobi towards a main passage out of Konohagakure, where the former Team Seven last spent their time together in their childhoods, aiming to sneak those damn bells off of Kakashi-sensei's waist; where Shikamaru reclines and stations himself regularly against a great oak tree that provides him with all the shade needed to activate the epitome of limits of his Kagemane no jutsu, while cautiously watching those whom flicker by.

Chouji would meet him when their mission scheduling permitted, if not for the fact that S-class missions could be finished within a period of a week to two months, for the best fights were said to always ended quicker, surrounded by a slew of satisfied bloodlusty eyes.

He has seen her; she's taken note of it before. His hand would twitch. He'd almost pause in mid-tirade, giving away his discomforature at being appraised from the back, where his eyes couldn't follow. Then Chouji would comment on who was the last disappointing person he was dealt with the task of barreling over and the second would tick by in acceptance.

She told herself that she only lingered to hear any news that she would monopolize herself in extensive detail to make sure that was all that could be said of, before the fifth Hokage would briskly tell her of this the next time they met. She told herself that she neither needed to hear, nor cared of who the Hebi were currently seeking out and invading. She promised herself that she wouldn't torture her shattered hopes with news of what Sasuke's faction was embarking on, for it had been years and she is over this by now.

She did not want to know what else the Mangekyou Sharigan eyes had granted him since he had returned and completed the requirement that his eldest brother and Akatsuki's halcyon reaper, Itachi Uchiha, set as an option for him. She did not need to know what else Naruto's martyring sacrifice had brought as a token of splendorous power for Sasuke to wield.


	4. Gamble

**4. **

**Title: Gamble**

**Character(s):** Tsunande, Naruto and barely there Jiraiya

**Word Count: **295

**Summary:** Tsunade contemplates why she lets her benevolence impair her sense of disgust.

**A/N:** I'm not entirely satisfied with this one and intend to play with it some more.

* * *

Tsunade spoke of a gamble of Naruto defeating even her deliriously drunken state once, and if his effort had proven a bountiful result, he would be dubbed worthy of being recognized as the oh-so-admired Hokage position that Tsunade herself was trying to reject as her fellow Sennin had rebutted passively.

At the time her sentimentality wagered this bet would at least bear productive results for the child and she silently relayed that it was because this precocious ninja upheld a resemblance to those whom had sanctioned niches in her heart, that this chance was being offered. After the little bastard had managed to distract her with hauntingly blunt and ridiculously familiar dialogue, along with nearly assaulting her with that atrociously impaired Rasengan that she knew he was stressing himself to obtain correctly, she concluded that this resemblance disgusted her more so than anything.

Not only was he imprudent and rushing on prideful adrenaline that he should in no way garner , but he was a firm reminder of ghostly deaths that she had yet, herself, to let dissipate. She was one of the remaining Sennin who had not betrayed her sanctioned castle of leaves, an accomplished medic nin who was being offered the prestigious position of having to deal with all the sick fucks whom took advantage of youthfully able bodies and turned children into tools for war because it was an effective tradition, and she was boasting unspoken sentimentality by giving this non-child a chance to prove that this ideal lifestyle could prove that a pubescent twelve year old could butcher another being simply for a challenge.


End file.
